Pizza Pies and Surprise Kisses
by Jetshinsei
Summary: Bruce and Selina make a snack. Bruce x Selina.


**Pizza Pies and Surprise Kisses**

_Summary: Bruce and Selina make a snack. BrucexSelina._

"What're you making again?" Selina asked, peering at the mess of flour and water in front of him from her seat on his kitchen counter. The white powder was everywhere, including smudged on Bruce's quickly maturing face and dusted in his dark hair.

He punched the ball of dough with a fist and attempted to knead it. He was trying but failing to hide his mounting irritation with the task, and Cat-his best friend and constant tormentor-wasn't helping any. "Pizza. Remember?"

"Don't look like any pizza I ever saw."

He glared over at her, and she couldn't stop the feeling of delight that passed over her. She loved it when he got frustrated and regularly went out of her way to harass him. Which, _okay_, wasn't all that hard to do since his relatively sheltered upbringing gave him absolutely no protection against her assaults, but that's what made it even more fun.

"It will when I'm done. Can you stop needling me?"

Selina fought the smirk that was threatening to split her face. _So_ easy. "Hey, don't get mad at _me_. I told you to get the premade crust. And what's up with this cheese?" she asked, holding up the distinctly non-rectangular ball of mozzarella cheese. She'd seen wheels of cheese in cartoons of course, but that was nothing like the soft, doughy sphere resting in her hand. Hell, _none_ of the cheese she'd seen that day looked like the stuff she usually stole.

They'd gone shopping for pizza ingredients at Whole Goods, some ritzy, upscale supermarket in the nice part of town that was all about being 'healthy' and 'organic' when really it'd be more accurate to call it 'pretentious' and 'fucking expensive.' Never in her life had she seen a loaf of bread for fifteen dollars, and she'd nearly turned green when he bought the tiny ball of cheese for twenty. She didn't even want to think about the cash he'd spent on the other toppings, but the total grocery bill (that he hadn't even flinched at) came up to over two hundred dollars for an amount of food that he alone could carry in his hands. For that much, she could eat for almost _three months_.

She knew she'd looked out of place amongst the rich and wannabe rich of Gotham in her beat up leather jacket, and if Bruce weren't with her, they probably wouldn't have even let her in the store. With good reason since the only way she'd have walked out of there with anything is if she'd stolen it. Organic and non-GMO or not, it seemed like a massive waste of money. What good was being healthy when you were broke?

That said, the fact that he'd bought her a huge slice of something called shmoo cake on their way out which had _easily_ been the most delicious thing she'd had in months to the point where she'd devoured the whole thing in under five minutes changed her entire opinion if the store. She'd marry it if it weren't frowned upon by society and also probably illegal. Who decided that a person couldn't love a slice of cake, anyway? Love was love as far as she was concerned, and if a piece of bread and cream made her happy, well, who were they to judge?

"That is much better than any block of cheese you'd find at EZ-Mart," he replied, snapping her out of her thoughts. Good thing too since she was dangerously close to drooling.

She wiped at the corners of her lips and shrugged, not really caring either way since she wasn't that big on cheese to begin with. "If you say so, kid."

His shoulders stiffened and he shot her another glare. "I'm _not_ a kid."

Cat smiled. He'd never had a problem with being called a kid until recently, and coincidentally, it was also around the time where she'd started to notice his gaze lingering a bit longer than it needed to on body parts that weren't her eyes...much like it was now. Feeling especially mischievous, she slid off of the countertop and stood behind him, leaning closely enough to where her curly brown hair was tickling his cheek as she looked over his shoulder. Predictably his ears began to turn red and she could almost see his heartbeat speeding up.

"Hmm, you still seem like one to me. Don't be in such a rush to grow up, B. Being a kid is great." Her hand slid between the gap in his arm and rib cage, grabbing a slice of the fancy cheese from the cutting board and popping it into her mouth. "Hey, this _is_ pretty good." By now his neck had turned a deep shade of pink, and it was all she could do not to laugh.

If bothering Bruce were a paying gig, she'd do it for free. It was just _that_ fun. She backed away far enough for him to put the crust in the oven for a few minutes, and together they watched it cook through the tiny window until it was no longer really doughy. It came out weirdly puffy and crooked but at the very least it looked edible.

"So, what now?" she questioned, stomach already beginning to growl at the bready smell. Despite how great the cake had tasted, it'd done very little to sate her hunger.

"Now we put the toppings on it. What do you like?"

She looked over the various vegetables and meats that they'd bought and shrugged her shoulders. "What _don't_ I like? Put everything on it."

His eyebrows raising, he looked incredulously over at her. "_Everything?_"

"Everything."

"Anchovies?"

Everything."

"Mushrooms?"

"Everything."

"Pineapples?"

"Bruce if I have to say everything one more time I'm going to bean you with this tomato." She held up an especially firm and shiny looking one, narrowing her eyes in what she hoped was a menacing way.

And he knew she'd actually do it, too. This wasn't the first time she'd threatened to hit him in the head with food, and more often than not she followed through. "Alright then," he shrugged, getting to work with adding sauce, cheese, and then everything else on the countertop.

Cat thought about helping him, but she liked watching him work. It was oddly soothing the way he quietly arranged the toppings in a way that was almost obsessive compulsive, and if she was helping, she would've just thrown everything on top unceremoniously because it was all going to the same place anyway. By the time he was done the pizza was four inches high and looked good enough to eat raw.

Bruce apparently didn't share her enthusiasm for it as he frowned and struggled to lift it without spilling everything onto the floor. "Don't you think it's too much?"

"Nope. Pop it in, I'm starving."

Sighing, he carefully placed the pizza in the oven and set the timer, adding a few more minutes to compensate for the overabundance of toppings he'd added. Right afterwards he began to set about cleaning up the mess he'd made and putting away the leftover toppings that wouldn't fit on the pie.

"Don't you have maids and stuff to do that?" she asked, watching him curiously as she leaned against the counter. Once again she considered giving him a hand, and once again she thought it better to just watch.

"Yes, but I can't keep relying on others to clean up my messes for me. I'm teaching myself to be self-sufficient."

She studied him for a beat, tilting her head as if it'd help figure out the puzzle that was Bruce Wayne. No such luck. "You're a weird kid." His face predictably tightened at being called a kid again and it took more willpower than she thought she had not to start laughing. "But you're cute, too."

His head snapped up to look at her, wet sponge stopping mid-wipe. He then averted his gaze to the white tile floor beneath them, and just when she was wondering if maybe she'd given him a stroke or something, he spoke. "So are you."

The air in the room suddenly felt thin, and she had to shake her head a couple of times before she could properly comprehend what she thought she'd heard. "What?"

His eyes finally raised to meet hers, firm and resolute instead of shy and hesitant like she was used to. "Cute. You're cute, too."

Thoroughly shocked, she leaned back against the countertop to stare at him. He'd always been so respectful and careful around her that if she weren't as smart and perceptive as she was, she wouldn't have even guessed that he was developing a little crush on her. It was the first time he'd ever put a voice to how he felt about her, and even though it felt sort of nice, this wasn't how the game was supposed to go. She dished it out and he took it. She led and he followed. That was it. Bad things always happened to her when she wasn't in control, and as much as she trusted him, she wasn't ready to relinquish any of it.

She was still so flabbergasted by his confession that she was barely aware of him leaning close to kiss her. To her relief, his lips had just barely brushed hers when the timer on the oven went off.

He jumped back, eyes wide as though he himself wasn't aware of what he was doing. "P-pizza's done." Back ramrod straight, Bruce walked over to the oven and opened the door, wincing at the heat that blasted him in the face. Using a pair of bat printed oven mitts, he pulled the pie out and placed it next to her on the countertop where she was still doing an amazing impression of a statue.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing her heart to stop thumping and lips to stop tingling. "Looks good," she squeaked out. And it did. Though it was quite obviously lopsided, it smelled as good as any other pizza they would've bought and the cheese had those little brown spots that she loved so much. She almost wanted to make a leaning tower of pizza joke, but she didn't quite trust herself to speak yet.

She abruptly walked over to one of the cabinets (because she'd been here enough times to know where most things were) and pulled out two large plates, placing one next to him as he used a pizza cutter to divide the monstrosity into eight pieces. She immediately snatched two pieces for herself when he was done and began to dig in.

"Oh my god," she moaned, eyes rolling back in her head at the flavors that assaulted her taste buds. "This is...wow."

"See? Told you it'd be better than ordering one." He bit into his own slice, nodding to himself as if he'd expected nothing less.

Though the awkwardness had dissolved, they ate in near silence. Cat eagerly and messily managed to wolf down three slices before she finally decided to breathe, sucking the thin layer of grease from her fingers. She glanced over at him and noticed that he was still on his first slice, the fluffy bread of the pizza drowned in too much cheese and sauce for him to eat it without making a mess of himself.

And to think this all started because she'd offhandedly mentioned that she had a taste for pizza. Instead of waiting thirty minutes for something to be delivered from Marco's (because he lived way too far away from the only decent pizza joint in Gotham), they'd spent a full four hours together taking a car to the supermarket, shopping for ingredients, making the sauce and dough from scratch, and baking their own pizza.

Her mouth dropped open as a sudden realization dawned on her. That sneaky brat! She'd thought he was crazy for wanting to go through all of that effort just to make one pizza, but noticing that he was just a little _too_ pleased with himself, it all made sense. The whole 'let's make our own pizza thing' was just a ruse so that he could spend more time with her. If they'd have ordered a pie from Marco's she'd probably have split the moment she was done eating. She was a busy girl, after all.

Still, she couldn't find it within herself to be upset with him. She had to give him props for coming up with such a smart plan on short notice, and she'd had a lot of fun watching him cook for her while she annoyed the shit out of him. Not many street urchins had the opportunity to get free dinner and a show from the crown prince of Gotham.

"You're right, this pizza is way better than Marco's. Next time I want good pizza I'm coming to you," she said, swiping a piece of pepperoni from his slice of pizza just as he was about to take a bite. The small grin that spread across his face confirmed her suspicions. She didn't understand how someone who was so bad at hiding his feelings could be so mysterious at the same time, but it was probably that exact dichotomy that drew her to him.

"How about next week?" Bruce asked. "We still have a lot of leftover ingredients."

Selina raised her eyes towards the ceiling and pretended to mull it over for a few seconds, loving the hopeful way he looked at her. It made her feel wanted; special, even. The entire city could look down on her, call her a street rat, and pretend she didn't exist, but as long as he thought she was worth something, well, who cared what the rest of them thought? She leaned forward and kissed him, tasting the homemade sauce and twenty dollar cheese on his lips.

"It's a date."

**AN: Seriously need to stop with these cute/gross little scenes. Didn't really know what to title it, and the summary is vague as shit, but I'm too busy to put that much thought into them. Hope you like! I have another half done story in the pipe that's also trying to be clever :T**


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